


Madness in Isolation

by TheSaturnianWildcat



Series: The Rabbit Hole [4]
Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Gen, somewhat experimental, william loses it in the safe room after so many years of isolation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:41:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29321829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSaturnianWildcat/pseuds/TheSaturnianWildcat
Summary: William awakens, miraculously alive, in the Spring Bonnie suit in the safe room with nothing to do but wait. And wait. And wait. And wait.
Series: The Rabbit Hole [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2130282
Kudos: 17





	Madness in Isolation

When William awoke, the first thing he noticed that he was in pain. Not an all-encompassing agony but a dull pain that sunk deep into him. He felt heavy and lethargic, like he had slept for far too long. He stared off into the dark, seeing shapes in it.

He had to go. He had to go find Michael...or rather, that thing that took him and find a way to save him.

He tried to stand but his body refused to obey him. He tried to grit his teeth but even that was impossible. Now panic was bubbling up in William’s chest as he struggled to move. He tried to yell for help but the only thing that left his throat was a mechanical crackle.

Don’t panic, don’t panic, he told himself. He had to approach this logically, like he would an experiment. Something happened and while he didn’t remember, he would figure it out.

He focused on moving his arm. It didn’t move but if William was one thing, he was stubborn. Finally, with a weird creak, his arm moved into view.

He stared at it for a moment. That...was an animatronic hand. Spring Bonnie’s specifically. He could tell the shell around the joints was deep red and between the fur was bloodstained metal.

It came back to him in a rush; the spirits, him hiding in beloved Spring Bonnie then...springlock failure. A burst of static escaped the machine’s voice box as a myriad of emotions assaulted him. Fear. Confusion. Curiosity. Hope. Then triumph! He had done it. Death, which consumed everything he ever loved, was defeated and he had done it! Just as the children had, William Afton had died...then came back.

Which presented a new problem. He was stuck in his Spring Bonnie suit all alone in the dark as his actual body decayed.

With effort, he willed his body to stand. It wailed and screeched but eventually he got up into a sitting position. Using the wall as a crutch, he got to his feet. None of it was comfortable in the slightest but he had to take what he got. He approached the door, thinking to the suit as he did, _‘C’mon Spring, hang in there for me, girl.’_

He got to the door and tried the knob. It wouldn’t budge. He was locked in. Alright, made sense, spiteful little children would lock him in. He scowled and drew back his arm to bust open the glass window, in some hope that he could get his arm through and unlock it that way.

A face appeared at the window and he stumbled back. It was the Marionette, Charlie. He tried to will his voicebox to let him speak, to tell her to _get out of the way._ But it refused to work, only playing, “H-h-h-hey ev-body!”

Charlie’s head bobbed as if she was laughing at him and he lashed out at the door, his hand bouncing off the metal. She shook her head at him and disappeared.

Enraged, he screamed at her, a discordant strain of song coming out of the machine. He bashed the door, internally wincing as he did. Maybe making the door a few inches thick sheet of metal was a bad move. Still, he raged against the door until, energy expended, he slumped against the door and drifted off.

When Will awoke again, it was day. Light streamed through the half-collapsed roof in the corner he had been in. He had no idea of telling if it was the next day however or even how long he rested for. Somewhere outside, he could hear birds chirping. It was nothing but torturous and taunting.

He decided, as long as he had the light, he should investigate his surroundings. He picked himself up off the floor, finding it wasn’t as difficult as it had been before.

First, was Fredbear’s carcass. He stared at it, as if willing it to move. It refused to budge. Curious, it had a spirit resting within it that fateful night. So either it was sleeping or dormant. Could spirits sleep? He slept so he supposed so.

That spirit...he hadn’t gotten a good look at it that night, not like the others. But what he did remember is, like the others it cried, but unlike the others those tears streaked behind it like a comet. It cried so much...but was so angry. He felt like he was missing something.

Next, he went over to the arcade machines. They had gone dead and he had moved them in here, planning to look over them himself instead of shell out to get someone else to look at them. He could sort of see himself in the screen and a shudder went down his spine.

Spring Bonnie’s now silvery eyes shone faintly in the dark. All her joints were stained red by his blood and her shell was deteriorating, holes tore in it and showing the grotesque skeleton under. The endoskeleton was rusted with blood and he could even see a coil of intestines inside. He stepped back, feeling like if he had any functioning organs, he might have thrown up right there. He grabbed the corner of the machine, the suit shuddering in an approximation of a dry heave.

He had to get out of here. What use was immortality if it was spent in a dark room?! He shambled to the hole in the roof and reached, seeing if he could grab the edge. But even with the height he was afforded by the suit, it was out of reach. Panicked, he tried to wail for help and the suit responded in kind with a long shrill note.

He was stuck, truly stuck. Someone had to remember him right?! Come and rescue him?! Someone would. They had to.

He slumped to the floor and let oblivion claim him once more.

The man slipped in and out of consciousness as time went on. Sometimes, he saw the spirits watching him, never more than one at a time. Even once, Fredbear’s spirit sat cross-legged in front of him, glaring a hole in him. Before he could wonder of the significance of him, he nodded back off. The spirits were keeping him trapped. If they couldn’t kill him, they’d let him suffer. It darkly amused him. He never let any suffer, at least except for sweet Charlie. He supposed anger made you cruel in that way.

In his dreams, he chased his memories as they slipped through his fingers, leaving shredded echoes of what they should be. There were the good ones, like one from a Halloween a long time ago. There were three children, good, kind children. There was a tall one, gangly and grinning, dressed like a pirate. Then there was a sweet girl, dressed like a clown in a dress. He had...he had helped her with her face paint, he remembered his fingers smudged white. Then the youngest, who was always so scared but wanted to be included, dressed as a ghost. He smiled up at him before the dream was cut short.

Then there was the bad dreams, the ones that were full of blood and screaming and despair. Death conspired to take everything he loved away from him. Once, he escaped it and it evidently never forgave him as it snatched everything he loved. Perhaps, the man was asking for it but he’d never let Death forget who started it.

When he next woke, it was because part of one of his ears hit the floor with a clang. He groggily stared at it and picked it up. Absentmindedly, he pulled the soft plush exterior off, gone brittle with mold. The skeleton inside was long rusted, now a suitable weapon. He jabbed and slashed the air, chuckling as he imagined attacking someone. Though the amusement wore off fast and he dropped it with a clatter.

He was bored.

Someone should have come already, right? Someone should have found him already, right?

He tried to search his memory but many faces wherein were smudged with no indication of their identity.

Panic gripped him, someone had to come looking into this place! He couldn’t rot here forever!

Loud banging awoke the man next time. His head raised and his ears perked from their flopped over position. Voices...someone was out there! They’d rescue him! He had to be still but it was hard with excitement buzzing through him. Soon, he’d be free and out again. Free out of this awful room.

“What’s this? It’s not on any of the maps.”

“Safe room, it’s supposed to be absent from them.”

The knob rotated uselessly, “Fuck, it’s locked. Boss! Door is locked here!”

A third voice barked, “Get it open, force it if you have to!”

They really were going to rescue him! He willed himself to play the part of a powered down animatronic. If he moved, they’d be scared and leave him here. So he had to be very very still.

The pair at the door scrambled as they forced the door open. With some time and a crowbar, it popped open and light flooded the room. They advanced inside, unaware the suit watched them. The man of the pair whistled, “More than I expected!”

“And there’s an animatronic!” the woman shined her light on him then Fredbear, “This must be where Fredbear and Spring Bonnie were all this time!”

The man went to the door and called, “We’ve got some arcade machines, an animatronic suit and an actual animatronic!”

“Grab the suit and we’ll get something to haul the rest out!”

The man went over to Fredbear, hooking his arms under his, and lifted him best he could. Half-carrying, half-dragging him, he got him to the door, setting him outside.

The woman, having finished inspecting the arcade machines, approached him. “Hey there,” she crouched and shined her flashlight on him—then screamed bloody murder.

“What is it?!” the man asked from the door, spinning on his foot to face her.

She scrambled back, “Someone’s in there, someone’s dead in there!”

The boss stopped beside the man, “A dead body?! Really?!”

The woman stopped to glare at him, “The fuck, why would I lie about that!”

The boss’s eyes widened and he panicked, “Both of you, out! We’re leaving it!”

The man turned to look at him, “But—“

“But nothing! Do you know the massive liability risk we have here! We’ll be dead in the water if anyone finds out! We haven’t even got this place ready!”

He turned to the woman, “Board it up! Both of you!”

Were they really going to leave him here?! He keened loudly, the trio turning to shock. The boss’ eyes met his and he knew in that moment, he knew he was alive. The boss bolted, “You heard me!”

The pair slammed the door and he was up, shambling after them, the keening crackling and buzzing under the strain of the volume. His shamble turned to a charge as he bashed the door with his shoulder. On the other side, he could hear screaming. It only fueled his desperation to get out. He’d kill the lot of them once he did! He bashed it over, screaming incoherently and furiously at them.

When next the rabbit awoke, he was sprawled on the floor. Confusion fogged his mind. He must have wore himself out. The room was even darker, no light coming from the repaired roof or the glass window. He was barricaded in.

Time passed and once more, he drifted in and out of consciousness. There was always voices outside now, except in the dead of night. They were rebuilding this infernal, cursed place. He had thought he had put the last nail in the coffin himself but like a roach, it refused to die. Frustrating.

It was day now and the rabbit sat in his dark room, listening to the laughter of children mere feet away. It wore on his nerves. He wished they were quiet, wished he could make them be quiet.

At night, it was mostly quiet. He could hear _them_ moving in the corridors, the straining metal of their vessels. Occasionally, there’d be screaming and begging as they dragged some poor sap off. They were no better than him, were they?

Still, they were allowed a degree of freedom. He was stuck in the dark, alone. He was desperately jealous of them. He let his head hit his chest, his eyes hooded. Alive or not, this was a curse. But a curse he would endure. He wouldn’t submit to Death. He wouldn’t let it win.

The infernal boss’ voice drifted past his room, “Now forget everything you heard about this place! It’s not haunted! If the animatronics move, it’s because their servos would lock up otherwise! If you hear children crying or screaming at night or banging in the walls, its the building settling! And if you’re seeing things you shouldn’t, then you need a therapist! Am I clear?!”

What a dreadful man with a dreadful voice. The rabbit wished to bring him a dreadful end. Wringing his dreadful neck made a nice image in his head.

Another voice answered, “Crystal clear, boss. I apologize.”

The rabbit’s ears perked. That voice...what was that voice? It reached inside him and grabbed his withered heart, squeezing like a vice. It was a nice voice, a happy voice. It made him happy. Who was it? His mind struggled to identify it. Maybe he didn’t know them at all. But he would have liked to meet them. Surely they were better than that dreadful boss with his dreadful voice. They made him think of better times, of blue skies and lit fireplaces and warmness. Not like this cold, damp and dreary room.

“Let me show you the office so I can get you a uniform.”

“Lead the way.”

No, don’t leave! Come back, let me out! He wheezed and bashed on the wall beside him, waiting to see if they’d return. But there was no response except for those infernal children. He wailed and bashed the wall more. He wanted out!

But, with no response, Springtrap was forced to wait.


End file.
